The Fall of Maggie Brown (15 page)

Father Gades spoke very little English, which Maggie considered her first lucky break. She waited until they were safely out of the encampment before she curled up on the seat to sleep. There had been no sign of Ben. He was probably out celebrating his close call, thanking God he didn’t even have to say goodbye to her. It was over, the whole dangerous, deceitful, embarrassing mess, and if she ever returned to San Pablo she’d be in complete control of her life and her emotions.

It seemed likely that sooner or later she was going to have to come back. Stella was in love, with a husband, with a baby, with a country. Stella didn’t need her twin sister watching out for her anymore. If she ever really had needed her.

Maybe Frazer was right about one thing. Maybe it was time to start taking care of herself.

She awoke suddenly, disoriented, and for a moment she’d forgotten where she was. The priest’s black sedan had come to a stop, and he was looking at her expectantly. Maggie peered out the window at the tiny airport. She’d made it. And Ben Frazer hadn’t followed her.

Father Gades gave her a long, graceful speech, and while she recognized El Gallito Loco and Frazer, few of the other words made any sense. So she simply smiled and nodded, patting the priest’s hand as he continued to talk to her. Maybe he was looking for a convert, she thought. Or maybe he was just trying to save her soul.

He was still talking when she climbed out of the car and shut the door behind her. Finally he gave up, putting the car into gear and driving away, leaving her alone in the lamplight outside the one low building that comprised Las Palmas International Airport.

And that was when she remembered that her money, her credit cards and her passport were at the bottom of a cliff in the back of a ruined Jeep.

The priest had already disappeared, and she had no choice but to enter the airport. Surely they had some kind of help, travelers’ aid or something. Since the U.S. government wasn’t on particularly friendly terms with Generalissimo Cabral there was no embassy in San Pablo, but there must be someone she could turn to for help. Hell, she was the president-elect’s sister-in-law. Someone would come to her aid.

The airport terminal was a madhouse, people rushing around, voices high-pitched and shrill. It was several minutes before she could even get someone to listen to her, even longer before she tracked down someone who spoke English.

“No more planes tonight,
señorita
,” the harried man said. “Every plane in San Pablo has left.”

“But why?”

“Generalissimo Cabral, his family, his supporters and his personal bodyguard have commandeered every available jet, plane and helicopter. The General himself left more than an hour ago, and the last plane is taking off even as we speak. I can only suggest you find a hotel room for the night. By tomorrow the planes will return, and we will do our best to get you out on the first one.”

“But I’ve lost my purse,” she said for what seemed like the seventeenth time. “My passport, my money, my credit cards…”

“That is a great deal too bad,
señorita
, but I’m afraid I can be of no assistance in this matter,” the man said hurriedly. “There are a few of Generalissimo Cabral’s men left behind. Perhaps they can help you.”

“Er…no thanks,” she said, backing away. If worse came to worst she could find her way back to the old section of town and throw herself on Elena’s mercy.

“Wait a minute,
señorita
,” the man called after her, but she kept moving, until she came up against a solid, immovable form.

She froze. He smelled like garlic and stale flesh and dried blood. It couldn’t be. But it was.

“Señorita Brown,” said the man she knew only as El Gallito Loco. He had a soiled bandage on his head, his neat suit was bloodstained, and his empty eyes were even more terrifying. “How fortunate that we happened to meet up.”

She opened her mouth to scream when she felt the barrel of the gun against her side. “Don’t make a noise and embarrass yourself, lady,” he said in her ear, his voice hoarse. “These men won’t help you. They’ve abandoned the
Generalissimo
, but they haven’t yet formed an allegiance to Morales. And one lone American woman isn’t of much importance in the midst of the revolution. You just come along quietly.”

She held still. “Why should I?” she countered. “You’re just going to kill me.”

“Maybe not. Maybe I’ll use you to lure Frazer back. I can’t save the
Generalissimo
, but I have an old score to settle. With Frazer, and with you. You might have broken my skull. Fortunately I have a hard head. It takes a lot to kill a man like me,
señorita.
You didn’t even come close.”

“Sorry,” she said briefly. “I should have used more force.”

His hand tightened on her arm, biting into her flesh so that she bit back a yelp of pain. No one was watching. El Gallito was right—there was too much panic and confusion for anyone to pay much attention to one lone woman.

“Come along,” he said again, dragging her. And she had no choice but to stumble along with him as he pulled her toward the exit. Not the front exit, with the lights, but off to the side, where there would be no witnesses.

She wasn’t going to make it out alive, she told herself. She’d survived almost certain death at least twice already—this time her luck had run out.

He pushed her through the door, so hard that she sprawled on the concrete. It took her a moment to scramble to her feet, but the gun was out now, pointing straight at her.

“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” she said calmly. “I should have made you do it in there. Then at least you wouldn’t get away with it.”

“I always get away with it,
señorita
,” he said politely. “A half-dozen witnesses make little difference. I’ll be following the
Generalissimo
first thing tomorrow morning, but first I need to take care of a little business.”

“I thought you wanted to kill Frazer, not me.”

“Ah, but then I thought about it, and I decided it would be far more painful for Frazer to have to live, knowing his carelessness brought your death, than to kill him. Death is instantaneous, and I want him to suffer.”

“He’s not going to give a damn if you kill me. Morales might be pissed off, but Ben won’t care.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.”

The voice came out of the darkness, shocking in its suddenness, and El Gallito swerved around, firing wildly toward the sound.

Three shots, and all she could do was flatten herself back on the pavement and cover her head. If she was going to die then so be it, but she wasn’t going to make an easy target.

The silence was deafening. She uncovered her head and peered up, to see El Gallito looming over her, swaying slightly, his eyes empty. And then he pitched forward onto the pavement beside her, dead.

She scrambled away from him in a mindless panic, only to be brought up in Ben Frazer’s strong arms. She stared up at him, wild-eyed. “You killed him,” she said.

“Yes.” His electric-blue eyes were opaque, unreadable.

She wanted to stand on her own, but her legs were trembling so much that she could barely keep upright. His hands were holding her, and she liked it, needed it, even more than she hated him.

“How did he escape?” she asked in a shaky voice.

“I didn’t know that he had.”

“Then why are you here?”

“We have some unfinished business.”

“Oh, no, we don’t…” she protested fiercely, but he simply picked her up in his arms.

“Can we continue this conversation somewhere other than beside El Gallito’s body?” he asked in a sardonic voice. “I haven’t killed that many men in my life and he gives me the willies.”

“Don’t you need to do something about him?”

“Someone will clean up the mess later,” he said carelessly. “It’s not like it hasn’t happened before in Generalissimo Cabral’s San Pablo.”

She didn’t bother arguing. They got as far as the roadway, and she recognized the Jeep. “I thought I crashed it,” she said.

“The Professor has more than one. Not that he wanted to trust me with it, after what happened to the last one. But when he heard I was coming after you he agreed.”

“You were coming after me,” she said stiffly.

He set her down, carefully. She took a step back from him, because she needed to stand on her own two feet. He looked wary, uncertain, staring down at her.

“Your sister wants you to stay,” he said. “She needs you. She’s got too much on her plate, and she needs your help.”

“I don’t need to take care of her anymore, didn’t you tell me that? She’s twenty-eight years old, she can stand on her own two feet.”

“She doesn’t need you to take care of her. She just needs help,” he said. “And The Professor, he needs you. You can help him understand the world financial situation…”

“I’m a banker from Philadelphia, not a secretary of the treasury, for heaven’s sake!” she shot back.

His half grin would have been endearing if she didn’t want to kick him again. “You never know what the future holds. You know more about money than Ramon does, that’s for sure.”

“So I’m supposed to stay and help out my sister and brother-in-law?”

“And the country. There’s a lot of work to be done now that the
Generalissimo
has left. He’s been stripping this place bare for the past thirty years. We need all the help we can get to put it back together.”

“And what will you be doing?”

He shrugged. “Anything I can.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” she said briskly. “San Pablo has survived without me before and it’ll do very well without me in the future.”

“Ramon needs me.”

“So?” she said coolly.

“I’m not going to be any good to him in Philadelphia. Besides, whoever heard of a swashbuckler in Philadelphia?”

She stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“I lied to you, I tricked you, and I was ready to tie you up and leave you. I took advantage of you time and time again.”

“And?”

“And…” He took a deep, painful breath. “I’m sorry. Damn, I hate apologizing,” he added bitterly.

She could feel the first embers of hope begin to glow in the pit of her stomach. “Apology accepted,” she said coolly. “And now I’ve got a plane to catch.” She started to walk away from him, knowing there was no plane, knowing she had no passport nor money to get one.

He caught her arm, just as she knew he would. Her back was toward him, so he couldn’t see the sudden smile that blazed across her face.

“You don’t want to be a pirate wench in Philadelphia, Maggie,” he said. “Stay here.”

She schooled her features, then turned to look at him. “Stay here and be a banker?” she questioned with deceptive calm.

“Stay here and love me.”

A slow, sure smile lit her face. Delia would get to choose a china pattern after all. “Frazer,” she said, “you’re going to hate my mother.” And she went into his arms, home at last.

eISBN-13: 978-1-4603-4533-7

The Fall of Maggie Brown

Copyright © 2000 by Anne Kristine Stuart Ohlrogge

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